Fool's Heart
by Meluial
Summary: A/U Wow, an Eomer fic!! Eventually...*Update (at last!)* The morning after the night before, and a coronation. Aww...
1. One

One  
  
  
In her bedchamber in the White Tower, Erin finished brushing her red-gold hair and laid the silver-and-ruby brush on the nightstand. Turning, she caught a reflection of herself in the mirror. Her pale skin contrasted with the richness of her green velvet gown, and the sadness of her eyes made her look far older than her young years. Erin sighed, turning away from the pale spectre of her image and brushed at her cheek furiously to dismiss the tear that threatened there. She gazed out of her window instead, across the city she now called home, and wondered how long it had been.  
  
Was it really six months? Erin couldn't remember. All she could think of, or feel, was the distant longing in her heart and the weariness of her soul, biting and clawing at her with every passing day. Out there, somewhere, beyond the walls of Minas Tirith, her brave Boromir still toiled, searching for the answer to his dream, and the salvation of his city and his people. Out there, too, was Faramir, also toiling to save Gondor. Boromir, Faramir…Erin felt her heart leap with pride as she thought of their names. The proud and dutiful sons of Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor, her foster-brothers and closest companions, whom she loved and cherished above anyone else in all Middle Earth.  
  
Erin raised her fair head as the noise of silver trumpets filled the air. For an instant, her heart quickened. Could it be? Then she heard footsteps in the passage outside, and someone knocked on her door.  
  
"Enter," she called, her voice trembling a little.  
  
One of her serving-women opened the door and curtseyed to her.  
  
"Forgive the intrusion, my lady, but the Lord Denethor asks for you. He has visitors, and commands your presence. "  
  
Erin held her breath.  
  
"Who…who is come?" she asked, and the woman curtseyed again.  
  
"T'is Mithrandir, my lady," she answered, and Erin saw the distress in the woman's eyes. "And…and a Halfling."  
  
"I will come at once," Erin assented, and as the woman withdrew, she sighed. Not Boromir or Faramir, as she had hoped, but Mithrandir. Well, mayhap he would have word of her foster-brothers. He certainly seemed to know everything else…  
  
Sighing, trying not to build up her hopes, Erin picked up her warm cloak and left her room. It had been a little over two weeks since she had seen Denethor, she reflected, for he had closeted himself away, seeing few, and certainly not her. It was at times like this that she wished Faramir, at least, was still in the city. They had always been great friends, for they were of almost the same age, and had been very close since the day Erin had come to their household as their foster-sister. She was greatly fond of him, and had missed him much since he left, especially since she had been worried about both Boromir and Denethor in recent times. It was unlike him to not visit her every day, to talk with her and make plans for the future. Something must be very wrong…  
  
Coming to the Great Hall, Erin passed into it unchallenged as always. There she saw Mithrandir, sombre as always, seated upon a chair, and beside him sat what Erin supposed must be the Halfling, who had stopped speaking as she entered. She gazed at him curiously, for she had never seen one before. Finally, she let her cool green eyes come to rest on Denethor.  
  
"You sent for me, Lord, Steward and beloved foster-father?" she asked, curtseying, and he raised his head wearily to gaze at her.  
  
It was then Erin saw what he held. A great horn, bound with silver, lay in two on his lap. The Horn of Gondor…Erin's heart sank.  
  
"My…my lord?" she asked, hesitantly; understanding immediately but willing desperately that he would tell her dissimilarly. "I…I don't understand."  
  
"Forgive me, Lady Erin." It was Mithrandir who spoke, and she turned to him, the tears starting in her confusion-filled eyes. "I am afraid that Boromir, whom you did love as a brother, has died protecting this Halfling and his kinsman, and indeed the entire fate of Middle Earth.  
  
Erin faltered. Boromir, dead? It could not be, it must not be…Erin felt a great wave of darkness swimming up around her, and she tried to steady herself.  
  
N…no, no it is not true," she managed to whisper at last. "He…he…"  
  
"It is true," Denethor said sombrely. "I had not the heart to tell you, Erin…I did not have the words."  
  
Erin's head swam. Boromir, her dearest Boromir was not coming back. Her mind filled with a thousand memories; the way he made her laugh with his seriousness, his sudden smile that caught her off-guard, his dreadful teasing of her from childhood…she let out a choked sob.  
  
"No…no!"   
  
With that, the Lady neither knew nor remembered anything more, for she had fallen to the floor in a dead faint. 


	2. Two

Two  
  
  
For almost two weeks, Erin lay in the Houses of Healing drifting between life and death. It was said that the shock of Boromir's death had been too much for her, and that her heart was breaking. The healers could do nothing for her, save watch and hope…  
  
One of the healers came to Aragorn as he and Gandalf took their leave of the Warden.  
  
"Forgive me, my lord and king," he said, bowing low, "but there is one other in the House who lies sick at heart, and none as yet have been able to bring her back."  
  
"I did not know of this," Aragorn said with a frown. "There was another woman in battle?"  
  
"Nay, my lord, she has been here a fortnight," the man replied. "She is Erin, foster-daughter of Lord Denethor, and she was much loved by his sons; Boromir who was killed these past few weeks and Faramir who rode with you. The news of the death of her foster-brother was too great for her; since she was told, she has lain thus in these halls."  
  
"T'is true," the Warden said gravely. "She knows nothing of these battles, nor of the death of her foster-father, nor that Faramir, her dearest friend, lies in these halls. She is aware of nothing, seemingly, yet her dreams trouble her. We have done all we can, but…"  
  
Gandalf nodded.  
  
"The lady has had a very great shock," he agreed. "She was raised by Denethor as his own, much as you were by Elrond, for her father was a great man of the city and his close friend, and her mother died in childbed. As a sister she was to his sons; they were raised together from children, and Boromir's death was hard for her to bear. I had quite forgotten it until now."  
  
Aragorn nodded, understanding.   
  
"You must take me to her," he commanded. "I shall do what I can."  
  
The Warden led the two men to the room that Erin lay in. On their way, Eomer joined them, having left his sister to sleep. He looked deeply troubled as Aragorn explained things to him, and thought how ill these times were, that even young women should be touched by the evils of Mordor.  
  
The two men and the wizard entered the chamber. Erin lay between the white sheets, her red-gold hair spread out around her on the pillow, tossing and turning in her fever. Aragorn laid a hand to her forehead.  
  
"She is greatly grieved," he murmured almost distractedly, for the maiden was as fair as any mortal woman he had yet seen. "Is there any more athelas here?"   
  
The Warden handed two of the delicate leaves to him, and, as he had done for those others he had healed, placed the leaves into a bowl of hot water and held it to her face. All watched and waited, the men and women of Gondor most of all, to see if the child (for thus they still saw her, though she was a grown woman come of age) would wake.  
  
Erin stopped tossing and turning and was still. Aragorn began murmuring to her, words that others could not hear, although Eomer thought he heard him tell her of Faramir. After what seemed like eternity, Erin opened her eyes.  
  
"Wh…where am I?" she murmured, and the Warden stepped forward.  
  
"In the Houses of Healing, Lady Erin," he told her softly. "This man has healed you and made you whole, and the whole of Gondor shall rejoice in it."  
  
Erin slowly sat up, looking around her. She recognised the healers and their servants, who all busied themselves around her, and she recognised at once Mithrandir, but here were two men she did not know. Puzzled, she turned her attentions to the man the Warden had pointed to as being her healer.  
  
"Then I must thank you, sir, for your pains," she replied courteously. "How long have I lain here? There is much that ought to be done…"  
  
"All is well, my lady," Aragorn said gently. "I cannot yet tell you all, but know only this; Faramir your foster-brother is safe and lying here in these halls, and Gondor is saved from Mordor and its evil."  
  
"Faramir?" Erin asked, her eyes widening. "He…he took hurt? I don't understand…"  
  
"There was a battle, lady," Eomer spoke up, coming to stand beside Aragorn. "But Gondor is saved, and your brother does well. He fought bravely, and will live."  
  
"Then there is light in the darkness after all," Erin murmured as one of her women fussed round her. "Though I fear there may be more darkness to come before light is let back in."  
  
"Your words may prove true," Aragorn told her gently. "But Gondor shall not fall. Such was the promise I made to your brother Boromir, and I now make the same vow to you, Lady Erin. Whilst there is strength left in me, I shall protect the Gondor and its people."  
  
"And not alone," Eomer promised.   
  
"This is Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshall of the Mark," Gandalf added. "The men of Rohan fought bravely for your city."  
  
"Then I thank you, Eomer son of Eomund, and your people for what you have done and what you have vowed to do," Erin replied. "Gondor and Rohan have ever been allies, now we may perhaps be friends as well?"  
  
"I would like nothing more," Eomer answered.  
  
Aragorn smiled.  
  
"We shall leave you to rest, lady," he said. "In a few days you will be well enough to get up, and then we shall tell you all you wish to know. Till then, sleep well, Lady of Gondor!"  
  
As the group withdrew, Erin lay back down on her bed and soon passed into a deep sleep, where her dreams were pleasant and troubled her no more. 


	3. Three

Three  
  
  
* *It just occurred to me that I haven't done my usual disclaimer-y thing!! Whoops!! So, here goes…no, I don't own the LotR characters/storyline/ingeniousness/anything. Erin is my creation, and no, she isn't a Mary-Sue, I promise. It may look like that, but anyone who knows me will tell you otherwise. And yes, I KNOW that Boromir and Faramir didn't have a foster-sister, but once more you find me taking liberties with the plot. Apologies to anyone offended by this; I love the world of Middle-Earth as much as anyone, but this helps keep me sane. If you don't like it, don't read it!! Oh, and it was kindly pointed out to me that Erin's background isn't very clear. I'll try and sort that out this chapter!!* *  
  
  
  
The following morning, although still a little weak, Erin resisted all attempts to make her stay in bed and insisted that she leave the Houses of Healing. Hearing this, Gandalf paid her a visit, and told her everything; of the finding of the Ring, of the Council of Elrond, of the Fellowship's journey. He explained how the battles had been fought and won around her city, how Faramir had bravely proven himself a thousand times over. And then he told her, as gently as he could of the death of Denethor, and Erin paled.  
  
"Dead?" she asked in a whisper. "My Lord Denethor is dead?"  
  
"I am afraid so, my lady," Gandalf replied, and Erin sank onto a chair. "The evil of Mordor had corrupted his mind. He was not himself when he died, nor should you remember him that way."  
  
Erin looked up at him, trembling.  
  
"Faramir…" she murmured, and Gandalf nodded, understanding.  
  
"He does not yet know, Erin," he told her gently, "for he does not have the strength yet in him."  
  
"Then am I to be the keeper of such grave tidings?" she wondered, getting shakily to her feet and crossing to the window. Below her, she could see the city bustling with early-morning activity, and the camp of Aragorn and his men just beyond the city walls. "And the bearer of ill news?"  
  
"It is a hard thing to bear," Gandalf agreed, "but you do not have to bear it alone. Others in the city know of his death, and it does not have to be you who tells him so."  
  
Erin turned to face him, a sad smile on her lips.  
  
"I was taken in by Lord Denethor when I was but a few years old," she said softly, a dim and distant light in her eyes. "My mother died in childbed, and my father, who was a great friend and companion of Denethor, was dead before my third birthday. I barely remember him. But I was looked after by the nurse of both Boromir and Faramir from birth, and when my father died Lord Denethor took me in as his own. He did not have to, for he had two sons to raise without a wife, the lady Finduilas having died before I was born, but out of love for my father he did so. He was ever as a father to me, and I was never treated any differently to his own children. We were raised as brothers and sister, and as they loved me, so I loved them more."  
  
Here she paused, and Gandalf nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"I understand," he said gently. "None shall speak of this to Faramir save you, and you yourself shall judge when he is ready. I shall re-inform the Warden of this."  
  
Erin smiled.  
  
"Thank you, Mithrandir," she answered him. "Thank you…"  
  
For the rest of the morning, Erin was left mostly to her own thoughts. She was informed by Pippin, the Halfling who had been present in the chamber the day she had taken sick, that Mithrandir and the other captains were debating the best course of action, and accepted his invitation to join him and his friend. Here, she was introduced to his kinsman Meriadoc, who bowed when they were introduced and expressed his sorrow at the loss of her foster-brother Boromir, and she smiled at him kindly.  
  
"Boromir ever thought of others before himself," she said, "and I am honoured to know that he did not die in vain."  
  
She sat with the two in the garden talking for a while, and they were soon joined by an Elf and a Dwarf, both of whom bowed low to her.  
  
"Gimli, son of Gloin at your service, lady," the dwarf announced, and his companion also smiled.  
  
"I am Legolas, my lady," he told her, and Erin smiled back.  
  
"I am Erin, foster-sister to Faramir and Boromir your companions," she said, trying not to show her surprise, for she had never seen Elves or Dwarves; but she was glad that they, too, had survived the battles so far unscathed, for they spoke admiringly of both her foster-brothers and their bravery.  
  
After a short time, she left the Hobbits and their friends talking to each other, and wandered through the Houses of Healing. She spent a few moments with Faramir, instructing him NOT to try to leave his bed for at least another day and, promising to return to sit with him later, she kissed him and returned to her room, where she began to silently contemplate all that she had been told.  
  
The knock on the door startled her. It was Gandalf, bringing with him Aragorn, Eomer, and another man whom Gandalf introduced as Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth.  
  
"We have come with news, Erin," the wizard told her. "Aragorn is to lead a great company of men and horses from this city two days from now, to assail the gates of the lord of Mordor."  
  
"Vengeance for my lord Denethor and others," Erin muttered, and Aragorn nodded.  
  
"For all," he told her gently, "but we will give you vengeance for the murders of those you have lost."  
  
Erin nodded, and Gandalf continued, "We shall not leave this great city unguarded, however. Imrahil is, at present, placed in the stead of the Steward, at least until Faramir recovers his strength and he is obliged to see that you are well protected."  
  
Looking surprised, Erin turned to Imrahil, and he bowed to her.  
  
"My lady, we will leave you with some three thousand men out upon the West Road," he told her. "And the guards of the city will mostly remain here to protect you."  
  
"On behalf of my foster-brother and my people, I thank you," Erin replied, and Gandalf smiled.  
  
"Ah, but there is more!" he told her his eyes twinkling. "For what use is an army if it has no leader?"  
  
"Surely Prince Imrahil will ride with the captains?" Erin exclaimed, and Gandalf nodded.  
  
"He will indeed," he said, musingly. "And Faramir your foster-brother is not yet well enough to resume his station. Lady Erin," he said gravely, looking her in the eye. "As foster-daughter of the late Steward Denethor, will you hold Minas Tirith in your charge until either Faramir is sufficiently recovered or Imrahil returns, whichever shall come first?"  
  
There was a slight pause. Erin looked around her, at the brave men who had fought for the freedom of her city; at Gandalf, ever loyal to helping Denethor despite their differences; at Imrahil, who had taken the place of the Steward willingly, even though he had his own people to care for; at Aragorn, who had done so much for her and her surrogate family; and finally at Eomer, who had vowed the loyalty and allegiance of Rohan with Gondor, and his own hand in friendship to her. They looked back at her, at her delicate face suddenly set with determination, and it seemed to Aragorn that she suddenly grew in stature.  
  
"Minas Tirith is my home," she said at last, "and I will do whatever is in my power to see its people safe. I cannot ride and fight with you, lords, but nor shall I lay idle. If you see fit to give charge of this fair city to me, so shall I be charged. I will keep the city safe until one more suited to the cause returns to power."  
  
Aragorn suddenly smiled at her.  
  
"Then, gentlemen," he announced, "I believe we are leaving this fair city and its people in more than capable hands…" 


	4. Four

* *Ah-HA!! An update at last!! Once again, I own nothing in this except Erin and her life story, and once again I take liberties with the plot. So call this an AU fic, if you want to. I don't mind. Now, since the muse has descended (about blimmin' time, too, Molith me lad!) on with fiction!* *  
  
Four  
  
With the Host gone from Minas Tirith, it fell to Erin to watch over the city and its people. She left the Houses of Healing after a week, returning to the home she had been brought up in, and set about trying to undo the hurts that the siege had caused the citizens of Minas Tirith. Every day, she met with the remaining guards, who reported to her regularly about what they were doing to mend the defences, and then she would venture out into the streets, talking with the people of Minas Tirith, hearing their grievances and doing whatever she could to comfort them, much as Denethor would have done.  
  
It still pained her to think of her foster-father. He had raised her from a very small child, and she had loved him almost as much as she had done her real father. She still had not entered the throne room of the citadel, where Denethor has sat at the foot of the dais on his black chair, receiving visitors whenever they came. She had ventured past it several times, but could not bring herself to go inside. The first person to enter must be Faramir, she had decided, and he would not yet make the journey.  
  
So the days and weeks passed, and Erin found herself thinking more and more of the brave Host that had set out to ride to the very gates of Barad-dur to assail the Lord of Mordor. She spent many hours talking of his friends with the Hobbit, Merry, who had remained behind, and felt her thoughts turning often to the Marshall of the Mark, who had pledged Rohan's allegiance to Gondor, and of his smile when they had spoken. She remembered the feeling of her hand in his as he made his vow, and felt a warm glow inside her. Eomer of Rohan was very handsome, she thought to herself, a slight flush staining her cheeks, and truly kind. She felt that his friendship was worth more to her than anything she might possess, and would see both Gondor AND Rohan well throughout the years to come.  
  
Fully three weeks had passed since the Host had departed, and Faramir was deemed well enough recovered to hear of his father's passing. It was with a heavy heart that Erin set out to tell him.  
  
None who live in the great white city know what passed between the new steward and his foster sister that day, not even the White Lady of Rohan, who had spent the past week walking and talking with Faramir in the hope that it would heal her hurt. Erin left the small room in which their speech had taken place, white and shaken, but a fierce light in her eyes, her duty almost discharged. Faramir soon followed, but he did not join his foster-sister at the citadel, preferring instead to return to the walls of the city, joined by the lady Eowyn.  
  
They were still standing on the walls, silent after some discussion between them, when the Eagle flew from out of the East, telling of the fall of Sauron, the bravery of the Lords of the West and of the coming of the King. And all who heard those words rejoiced, and there was much singing and merrymaking throughout the city.  
  
In the days that followed, there was much to do to prepare for the return of the great Host and the King, and under the temporary Stewardship of Faramir, things were done quickly and well. Erin assisted him as best she could, and when he came to her but a few days later and told her that he was going to marry Eowyn of Rohan, her heart sang and her eyes shone.  
  
"Ever has Rohan been friend to us," she exclaimed in delight, "and ever has its people come to our aid when we have been in need! Ah, Faramir, my heart is glad for you!" And she kissed Eowyn then and called her sister, and the people of the city rejoiced in the news.  
  
A week later, Faramir again sent for his foster-sister. When she came, he studied her shrewdly, not knowing what it was he looked for, yet seeking it all the same. At last, he seemed to see what it was he wanted, and he smiled.  
  
"I have received word that the King and his host are camped outside the walls of the city," he told her, his eyes bright. "Tomorrow, they shall enter the city, and Aragorn shall be crowned at last."  
  
"Then all is come to an end," Erin replied. "And I am glad of it."  
  
"Erin," Faramir said gently, "there is one thing I would speak of with you."  
  
"What?" she asked curiously. "What would you have us discuss?"  
  
"Eomer of the Mark."  
  
Erin felt a blush creep into her face, her entire body warming at the mention of his name.  
  
"Eomer?" she asked, pretending to be puzzled. "What would you have me say of him? Surely it is you who must speak with him, if you mean to tell him of your love for his sister?"  
  
"All this shall come in good time, dearest Erin," Faramir assured her. "But it is not to my happiness I am referring."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
Faramir looked at Erin and began to laugh. She gazed at him, fearing he had gone mad and would try to repeat Denethor's actions. When he at last calmed down, he spoke again.  
  
"Forgive me, Erin," he entreated, still spluttering with laughter. "I did not mean to offend you."  
  
"I am not offended," she returned. "But you surprise me with your laughter."  
  
"Erin," Faramir said seriously," I have known you for my entire life and you are as good as sister to me. I know you almost as well as I know myself, and you know me better than anyone save Boromir. As my father, your guardian, is dead; I must stand in his place. Now speak truly! How do you stand?"  
  
"He is truly a valiant warrior," Erin managed to say, willing her heart to lessen its pace. "And.he was kind to me."  
  
Faramir crossed the floor and took Erin's hands in his own.  
  
"I do not mean to tease or upset you, Erin," he told her. "In my own happiness, I wish only the same joy for you. Whenever we have spoken of him, you blush, or smile, or get a strange look in your eyes. I have seen it, and know full well what it means."  
  
"In truth I know not WHERE I stand," she admitted, lowering her eyes. "All these things you say are true, and yet I know not how my heart lies. I barely know him."  
  
"But yet you love him?" Faramir persisted gently.  
  
"I don't know," Erin whispered. "Almost everyone I love goes away. I don't know."  
  
* * Aww, poor Erin! But clever ole Faramir, sussing it out before she does!! Things aren't exactly moving at the moment, but next chapter, Eomer enters the city again with Aragorn and the rest. Things could get in-ter- est-ing.* * 


	5. Five

* *Ah-HA!! An update at last!! Once again, I own nothing in this except Erin and her life story, and once again I take liberties with the plot. So call this an AU fic, if you want to. * *  
  
Five  
  
Faramir's words echoed in Erin's mind as she went about her evening tasks. How was it, she wondered, that Faramir could see things so clearly when she herself could not? She hardly knew Eomer, as she had told her foster- brother, and yet, and yet.A small voice interrupted her confused thoughts.  
  
"M.my lady?" Erin turned, and smiled at the small boy who had entered the room behind her and now bowed at her acknowledgement of him.  
  
"What is it, child?" she asked kindly, and the little boy stood up in order to recite his important message.  
  
"I bring word from Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor," he began, stumbling slightly over his words in his haste to discharge his duty. "And he bid me say this: 'Greetings to you, Lady Erin, fairest of the fair and most beloved sister. This messenger comes charged with a task that only your gentle ministrations can command. Bid him speak, and he will charge you with it'."  
  
Erin let a half-smile slide across her face as the boy spoke, obviously extremely proud that the Steward had chosen him to relay such an important piece of news. As the lad finished, she schooled her face into a suitably serious look and turned to him.  
  
"And what task does my lord Steward charge me with?" she asked.  
  
"If you please, my lady, Lord Faramir asks if you will go down to the pavilion of the King and speak with him. Lord Faramir asks that you tell the King all is ready for his arrival. And.and he asked me to give you this, so that you may put it into the hand of the Third Marshall of the Mark and no other. It is of great importance."  
  
Erin looked at the parchment scroll that the boy had given her, and nodded.  
  
"You have done well with your task, child," she told him. "What is your name?"  
  
"Eófram, son of Eófold, my lady."  
  
"Well, Eófram, I thank you for the pains you have taken to give me this message. Will you return to the Steward and tell him that I accept the charge laid on me and am gone to the King and his companions?"  
  
Eófram nodded eagerly.  
  
"I shall go now," he exclaimed, bowing hastily and practically running from the room. "Thank you, my lady!"  
  
Erin was still laughing as she made her way down to the fields of the Pelennor and the tents of the great Host. The moon was just beginning to rise in the sky as she was escorted to Aragorn's tent, and he and the other captains all rose as she entered, greeting her cordially.  
  
"My Lords," Erin said formally, bowing to them all.  
  
"You are well come here, Lady Erin," Aragorn assured her. "It is long since the Lords of the West have seen such a fair vision!"  
  
"My Lord Aragorn is kind," Erin murmured, blushing slightly.  
  
Formalities aside, Aragorn showed her to a seat close to his own and bade one of the men waiting on them to fetch her a drink. He smiled at her as the others resumed their seats.  
  
"What mission brings the fair maiden of Gondor to our camp on such a chill night?" he asked. "Is all well within the city?"  
  
"All is as well as it has ever been," Erin answered, forgetting the formal tone that the mission commanded in the face of such a gallant welcome. "My Lord Faramir wished me to tell you that all is ready in the city for your coming there tomorrow."  
  
"Your foster-brother is very kind," Aragorn told her, and Erin smiled.  
  
"All is as it should be," she said, half to herself. "And what our ancestors looked for shall come to pass."  
  
Erin stayed long in the camp of the King, hearing of their adventures. She was delighted to see Pippin, Gimli and Legolas again, and - after reassuring them that Merry was fine and well and safe in the city - she embraced the three, surprising them somewhat. She also met Frodo and Samwise for the first time. All of the men and Gandalf had praised the two Hobbits immensely, and to their surprise Erin kissed them both as well.  
  
"The two heroes of Middle-Earth," she announced with a smile. "Long will your deeds be remembered in Gondor!"  
  
"Thank you, my lady," Frodo mumbled, and Aragorn laughed.  
  
"It seems that such fair company has rendered the entire camp speechless!" he declared. "I feel I must protest, my lady, at your good treatment of my men!"  
  
Erin joined in the general laughter that ensued, merely protesting mildly, "it is no more than such men deserve!"  
  
As the companions in the tent turned to their own speech, Erin sought out Eomer.  
  
"My lord Eomer," she said, coming to his side, "I bring a message to you from my foster-brother Faramir, with strict instructions that I was to place it in your hands and your hands alone."  
  
"I thank you, Lady Erin," Eomer replied, surprised.  
  
As he took the scroll, Eomer's hand brushed against Erin's, and her heart raced. She was still contemplating this reaction as Eomer finished reading the letter and smiled at her.  
  
"So your foster-brother wishes to marry my sister," he said in a low voice. "It seems we are to become kin, lady."  
  
"Not strictly," Erin replied without thinking, and then she added in a gentle voice, "are you unhappy, then, with your sister's choice?"  
  
Eomer laughed softly.  
  
"Nay, my lady. Did I not promise you that the friendship of Gondor and the mark would be renewed amongst us? And now it seems that the bonds we have forged are to become ever stronger with this union."  
  
"Then we shall have the pleasure of your company amongst us more often, my lord?"  
  
Eomer studied her face, illuminated by the flickering of the lamplight, and it seemed to Legolas, who happened to be passing by, that he looked at her anew, and he smiled at her also.  
  
"Lady," Eomer said at last, in that same, low voice. "I would gladly spend my time in your company, whether my sister married Lord Faramir or no."  
  
And when Erin finally returned to her chamber and fell onto her bed, in order to snatch a few brief hours of sleep before the following day's ceremonies, it was these words that she repeated to herself over and over, and they found their way into the beating of her heart and the patterns of her dreams. 


	6. Six

* * Update at last!! Damn college, making me work…but here we go. As Manuel would say 'I own nothing…except Erin'. Err, right… * *  
  
Six  
  
The following morning, Erin was woken by loud crashes, bangs and a series of curses from outside her chamber window. Groggily, she wrapped the bed sheets around her and made her way to the window. In the street below, a hive of activity was erupting as the people of Gondor finished the preparations for the entry of the King.  
  
"But it's not even sunrise," Erin exclaimed in surprise, beginning to bitterly regret the long hours spent with the Lords of the West the previous evening. "Am I to have no rest?"  
  
It appeared that the answer was a resounding no, as Erin's waiting-women entered the room to dress her for the day's celebrations.   
  
"Come on now, my lady, lets be moving," fussed her old nurse, Yarweth, as they began to gather round her. "Today's not a day for dallying, we must be ready for the King's entry just after Sunrise…why are you so tired?" the old woman asked sharply, noticing the pale features of her charge. "Lady Erin, were you gallivanting all night?"  
  
"No Yarweth, I was not," Erin replied, trying to maintain her position and her dignity in the face of the elderly nurse's glare. "I merely had to report to the King on behalf of the Lord Faramir, that is all."  
  
"Did you, indeed?" harrumphed Yarweth; but her eyes were bright as she began to hurry the younger maids.  
  
"Did…did you really see the King, my lady?" one of the young girls asked with an excited squeak. "Is he as handsome as they say?"  
  
Erin smiled, trying to cover her amusement.  
  
"I did and he is," she confirmed, and several of the girls clutched each other and giggled.  
  
"I have heard tell that ALL of the great Captains are very handsome," another said, and more giggling ensued.  
  
"Now, now, come along," Yarweth ordered. "Lady Erin must be ready and at this rate we'll miss the ceremonies. You two, stop giggling and fetch the Lady Erin's gown. Quickly now."  
  
As the two chastised girls went to get the dress, Erin turned to her nurse.   
  
"They mean no harm, Yarweth," she said gently, and her nurse snorted.  
  
"It seems they are not the only ones so transfixed," she said sternly. "Oh, I know very well why you went off to the camp last night, and why Lord Faramir sought to send you. You're as bad as when you were children, the pair of you."   
  
Yarweth's expression softened, and she cupped Erin's face with her hands.  
  
"You are a one, my lady, there's no doubt," she continued. "And now it seems I shall lose all my charges, for Boromir is gone, and Faramir to be married and you…"  
  
"I am not leaving," Erin said hastily, and Yarweth smiled.  
  
"Indeed," she declared. "For if the King of Rohan was to ask you away, I'm sure you'd stay!"   
  
Erin blushed, and several of her maidservants giggled again, as they dressed her.  
  
"He is very handsome," she murmured, and Yarweth nodded triumphantly.  
  
"Oh, that he is," she replied knowingly, "and a brave one at that. I have heard of his deeds at Pelennor. He will be a great King of his people, I have no doubt; and will raise great Kings. And the blood of Gondor will run in his heir, you mark my words."  
  
"Oh Yarweth," Erin exclaimed.  
  
She was cut short by the sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair gleamed in the light of the rising sun, and the pale blue and silver gown she wore showed her beauty to perfection. She wore no ornament save for a pale blue gem about her neck, an heirloom of her mother's house. Yarweth smiled again to see her.  
  
"The blood of Gondor, my child," she said softly. "For no true man born could look upon you unmoved this day."  
  
Erin was about to reply, but before she could do so the bells rang out, calling one and all to the ruined Gates of the City to welcome their King. With one final backward glance in the mirror, Erin hurried to join her foster-brother.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Faramir smiled at his foster-sister as she hastened down the steps to join him at the Gateway, her eyes flashing with pride. She took her place between her foster-brother and Húrin, the Warden of the Keys, before the barrier across the entrance to the city; and there she was joined by the lady Eowyn and the knights of the Mark, and together the two women looked on the ceremonies that bound the people of Gondor to their new King.  
  
As Faramir performed his duties as Steward, Erin tried to concentrate on the ceremonies. But every now and then, her glance strayed from Faramir, Aragorn and the rest to the tall King of Rohan. When at last the ceremony was over, however, and Aragorn began to enter the City, Erin found that she had tears in her eyes that she could not explain. Aragorn smiled at her as he passed; a knowing smile, and she took great hope and comfort from it as she turned to follow the retinue of people back into Minas Tirith.  
  
"A great day lies before us," a voice said softly behind her, and Erin turned with a start. Eomer smiled at her. "May I walk with you, my lady Erin?" he asked her formally, and she smiled back at him.  
  
"Of course, my lord," she replied, thinking that her heart beat so loud in her chest that all around her would hear! "Is your sister also escorted?"  
  
Eomer grinned broadly.  
  
"I believe your foster-brother has taken care of that," he remarked, and Erin covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smiles as the two passed them by.  
  
"They look well together," she mused, thinking aloud as she sometimes did. "And this is a great day for Minas Tirith. It is strange; when the crown was set upon his head, I found myself looking at Lord Aragorn as if for the first time. It moved me to see him so."  
  
"I, too, looked on him anew," Eomer murmured. "I foresee great things for Gondor now that Aragorn is King."  
  
Erin looked at him.  
  
"And what of Rohan?" she asked softly. "Are great things to spring from the fair land of our allies also?"  
  
"I wish I had that foresight," Eomer told her, and he looked so troubled that Erin was moved. She reached out her hand and, to her eternal amazement (as she was to later relate); found that she unconsciously took his hand in hers.  
  
"I do not think the people of Rohan need worry," she said timorously. "You will be a great king, Eomer; for your people love you, that I can tell, and that in itself is a measure of a man. Gondor and Rohan will stand side by side in the days to come, and fair words shall replace foul deeds and all that is great and good in this world shall come to be. Rohan shall be blessed as Gondor is, and I shall rejoice in that."  
  
Eomer stopped and studied her face.  
  
"You know this?" he asked, amazed, and Erin nodded.  
  
"I have seen how your men follow you," she replied. "They would follow you to the ends of the earth. And they are not alone," she added, unconsciously speaking her thoughts aloud.  
  
Eomer said nothing in reply, but continued walking with her into the Great Hall. Many of the people present, however, noticed that they still held the others hand as they continued on their way, and Yarweth smiled a secret smile to herself.  
  
"A great line of kings of Rohan," she murmured, "and the blood of Gondor in their veins…" 


End file.
